"I've got the sack, Waters. You're in charge of this rotten, filthy old hooker now until the old man is sober."
He packed up his traps, went ashore, drew his money from Mrs. MacLaggan's cashier, and bade him goodbye.
"Where's the goat, Tom?"
"On board Bully Hayes' ship. His crool, crool mistress shall see him no more! Never more shall his plaintive call to his nannies resound o' nights among the sleeping palm-groves of the Vaisigago Valley; never——"
The cashier jumped up out of his chair and seized the dismissed supercargo by the collar.
"Stop that bosh, you rattlebrained young ass, and come and take a farewell drink."
"Never more will he butt alike the just and the unjust, the fat and bloated German merchant nor the herring-gutted Yankee skipper, nor the bare—ah—um—legged Samoan, nor the gorgeous consul in the solar topee. Gone is the glory of Samoa with Billy MacLaggan. Goodbye for the present, Wade, old man—I am not so proud of my new dignity—I am to be supercargo of the brig Rona —as to refuse to drink with you, though you are but a cashier. And give my farewell to the widow, and tell her that I bear her no ill-will, for I leave a dirty little tub of a cockroach-
infested ketch for a swagger brig, where I shall wear white suits every day and feel that peace of mind which—"
"Oh, do dry up, you young beggar," said the good-natured cashier, whose laughter proved so infectious that Tom joined in.
"Come then, Wade, just another ere we part."